


When We Were Whole

by MindfulWrath



Series: The Rise and Fall [3]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Tekkit War, Some Plot, Tekkit, fluff with plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 12:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3528818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MindfulWrath/pseuds/MindfulWrath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking place well before the events of The Blackrock Chronicles, this is a brief glimpse into fluffy Rythna hell. A prequel to both "Blod Rosen, Blod Notten" and "To Cast A Shadow." It occupies this place in the posting chronology for a reason, trust me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When We Were Whole

"I'm not sure this is gonna work."

Rythian tugged his mask back up, rolling onto his side. "Why not? Mask's on, by the way."

Lalna opened his eyes. There was a thin line between his brows, and he was having trouble meeting Rythian's gaze.

"I mean, it's just . . . it's weird."

"Weird how?"

"Well—it's just that—no offense, but . . . what _are_ you?"

Rythian scowled at him. "What are  _you?"_

"What?  _Me?_ I'm human."

"Is that all? It sounds awfully boring." He rolled onto his back, folding his hands over his bare abdomen. "And here I was, thinking you were also a scientist, an inventor, a nuclear engineer, a would-be astronaut—"

"I get it."

"An arsonist—"

"I  _get_ it, Ryth."

Rythian looked over at him. "It's a shame you pull yourself down into such a small box as 'human.'"

"So what you're saying is, you're not human."

"I didn't say that."

"You implied it."

"No,  _you_ inferred it. All I implied was that 'human' is a very small box, and even  _you_ aren't  _just_ human."

Lalna sighed, rolling his eyes. "Look, would you just answer the question?"

"No."

"Prick," Lalna accused.

"I'm not answering because it's not important."

"It's important to  _me."_

"Why?"

"Because—" He pulled up short, biting his lip. He sat up and crossed his arms, turning his face away. "Because I don't want any . . . surprises."

Rythian snorted. "And you call yourself a scientist."

"Yeah, but I'm not much for experimenting in  _bed,"_ he retorted, then stiffened. Even in the dark, the flush that spread from his hips to his scalp was clearly distinguishable.

"Ah," Rythian said, after a long, silent moment.

"It's like, I've got to—I can't even  _look_ at you without you, y'know, doing that  _thing._ That enderman thing."

"Don't call it that," Rythian snapped, then breathed deeply, running a hand down his face. "I'm sorry. That was harsh. It's called  _void-skipping_ and there are plenty of things that aren't endermen that do it."

"Really?" Lalna said, regarding Rythian out of the corner of his eye. "How's it work? Can  _anything_ do it?"

"I have told you before: leave the scientist outside."

Lalna deflated somewhat. "Sorry."

Patting the empty space beside him, Rythian encouraged, "Lie down."

Lalna complied, his shoulder brushing against Rythian's. Rythian wriggled to the side and rested his cheek on Lalna's chest.

"You remember," he began quietly, "how your parents would tell you to look with your eyes, not your hands?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

"Forget that."

Fidgeting, he objected, "Yeah, but . . . it's not the same. And it still worries me, like, y'know, what could go wrong."

Rythian's jaw clenched. "What could  _be_ wrong, you mean. With me."

"N-no, I didn't say that."

"You implied it."

"No, you great twiggy prick, you  _inferred_ it."

"Oh, hoist by my own petard," Rythian lamented. "Listen, do I need to give you an example so that you'll understand?"

"That . . . might actually be helpful, yeah."

Rythian wrapped an arm around Lalna's chest and rolled the both of them onto their sides.

"Okay, for example. I have never, in fact, seen your ass."

Lalna went red again, then positively  _crimson_ when Rythian reached down and grabbed a handful of buttock.

"However, I can infer that it is, in fact, a good ass," he continued, and squeezed. "Does this make sense?"

"I—well, I mean, yeah, I-I guess," Lalna admitted. "I just, I dunno, I . . . I wish I could, y'know,  _look_ at you."

"Why?"

"Well, because—because you're . . . really cute?"

"You flatter me."

"That's not flattery. You want flattery, I'll  _show_ you flattery."

"Spare me," Rythian intoned. He gave Lalna's ass a friendly pat and returned his hand to rest against the scientist's chest, slowly pushing him over onto his back. Rythian nestled his head over Lalna's heart and sighed, his eyes drifting closed.

"Still alive?" Lalna inquired.

"You seem to still have a heartbeat," Rythian responded, "so I would have to deduce that yes, you are still alive."

"Whew, good, that's a load off  _my_ mind." Lalna hesitated, then laid his palm flat on Rythian's rear. "Oh my God, it's nothing but bones!"

"Excuse me?"

"Your bum's all bones," Lalna clarified. "You poor bastard. I'm concerned to touch it more than this, on account of I might be impaled."

"I'll impale  _you,"_ Rythian retorted, then stiffened. "Wait—no, that didn't—"

Lalna burst out laughing, a full-bellied, head-thrown-back cackle. Scowling, Rythian butted him in the chest. When this elicited no response, he climbed over and lay full-length on top of Lalna, then went limp.

"What're you doing?" Lalna inquired, the laughter still curling around the edges of his words.

"I'm dead," Rythian announced.

"You're dead?"

"Yes. You've killed me with your disparaging butt-comments."

_"Disparaging butt-comments?"_ Lalna cried in disbelief, half-choking on laughter.

"Mm," Rythian agreed somberly. "It's my only weakness."

"You talk an awful lot for a dead man—a dead . . . a deadmun."

Rythian snorted. "A deadmun, yes, of course. But how would you know? How many deadmuns have you known?"

"None," Lalna admitted, "but I've heard they tell no tales."

"I'm not telling tales. I'm just talking."

"Pretty sure deadmuns don't do that. Or at least, they're a lot less coherent about it. Like, y'know, zombies. Never heard a zombie complain about  _butt-comments."_

"Excuse you, I'm not a  _zombie,"_ Rythian pointed out.

"Sorry, my mistake; you're clearly a skeleton."

"I am not a skeleton!"

"Could've fooled me. See, look, I can feel all your ribs, right there." He prodded the offending bones. Rythian twitched.

"Don't—don't do that!" he exclaimed.

"Twitch an awful lot for a deadmun," Lalna commented. He prodded Rythian again. "I wonder if deadmuns are ticklish?"

"Don't!" Rythian warned, but Lalna was already brushing his fingers against Rythian's ribs. Rythian squealed once, wriggled like a snared weasel, and suddenly snapped out of existence.

He popped back in several feet away with a muffled curse.

"I  _told_ you," he stated petulantly.

Lalna sat up, reaching out a hand towards Rythian, but not climbing out of bed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know! Why—why didn't you tell me what would happen?"

"I  _would_ have, if you'd given me any time to."

"Sorry. Are you—are you all right?"

Rythian sighed. "Mostly. I think my hair is caught in the floor."

"Your—what? Sorry?"

Scowling, Rythian answered, "My hair. Caught in the floor. One of the joys of involuntary void-skipping is that you don't get to pick where you come back in."

"Oh, God, I'm sorry."

"It's fine. At least it wasn't my arm."

Lalna flinched. "Eesh, yeah, that'd be—that'd be horrible."

"You're telling me. Are you going to help me get my hair out of your floor or not?"

"Oh! Right, yeah, 'f course." He hopped out of bed and crossed swiftly to Rythian, kneeling next to him. "How much d'you think is in there?"

Rythian sighed, rolling his eyes and thereby casting shifting violet shadows across his face. "Most of the back of my head?"

Lalna snorted, clapping a hand over his mouth. Rythian glared at him.

"I'm glad you find this so amusing."

"No, it's just—oh my God, you're going to look so stupid. Hang on, I've got some scissors round here somewhere."

"Lalna," Rythian said coolly, "for your sake, I would recommend learning how to function without sleep. Because the  _moment_ you fall unconscious, I am going to shear your entire head, including your eyebrows."

"That's unnecessarily cruel," Lalna pouted.

"Heaven hath no rage like love to hatred turned."

Lalna snorted again, moving to rifle through his drawers.

"God, does it not? Let's hope you never end up hating me, then."

There was a long moment of silence, and then Lalna said, "And yeah, Ryth. I love you, too."

 


End file.
